Our Own Family
by MerylJane
Summary: Hodgins and Angela have an unexpected visitor from across the tennis courts while they're trying to decorate their Christmas tree after The Santa in the Slush. Hodgela plus Zack.


**AN: So I apparently live in the past. Even the fictional past. This is so silly. But I just couldn't help myself. I had the urge to write something completely cheesy and Christmas-y. This takes place during/after The Santa in the Slush. Oh, and writing Bones characters is a new and exciting challenge for me, so try not to judge me _too_ harshly. Just trying to spread the Christmas cheer, as Sweets would tell me it's my moral responsibility.**

**Disclaimer: I don't plan on receiving Bones as a Christmas present this year. I mean, I've asked for season 2 and 4 on DVD, but . . .**

Until this moment, with Angela, I don't think I'd ever appreciated the idea of_ family_ at Christmas. In fact, I'd hardly appreciated the idea of_ family_ at all. Not until Angela had used the word, with her hopeful plans for making a Christmas and a family together, and it had suddenly become beautiful.

So we had come back to my place – which might has well have been _ours_ (God-willing) – to make ornaments and decorate a tree and be a family. Angela had made hot cocoa. She'd also baked cookies which we apparently weren't supposed eat because they contained glue or something which was to be used as a sort of preservative. While we waited for those to harden, we were twisting red, gold, and silver strings together into some elaborate design she'd indubitably created spontaneously (in the end, it was supposed to spell out our names), and she was smiling so brightly I swear I almost wanted to sing a Christmas carol or two. (Not like "Jingle Bells," but maybe "Good King Wenceslas." Something on the mellower side. Still cheery, though, and _warm_. That' s how I was feeling. Is family supposed to feel like that?)

Perfection.

I kissed her suddenly, catching her off guard and making her lose her fingering with her string-weaving; I was unconcerned. She glared at me, though a smirk shone through.

But then there was knocking on the door. For a moment, I feared it may be someone from my original, _biological_ "family." And they didn't all make me so warm and cheerful as much as they made me, um, angry. And annoyed. And cynical.

"Can we _not_ answer it?" I whispered hopefully, my lips millimeters from Angela's ear.

"It might be Zack," she said, moving unnervingly far away from me.

She was standing up, and I grabbed her arm to coax her back down; she _pulled_ me forcefully to a standing position.

She dragged me powerfully across the room and we opened the door together. That felt like a family.

And it _was _Zack, of course. He was still wearing that ridiculous bright red and green Christmas sweater that I was certain was hand-knit and homemade. I assumed it was an annual thing, a tradition. Which made me wonder why he wasn't with his family getting an updated edition.

"I was feeling exceedingly lonely in the garage apartment, Hodgins." The kid _looked_ lonely, even for Zack. "Angela made me promise to knock on the door if I felt lonely. I assumed that the exchange was genuine, but now that I analyze the interaction I suppose she may have been speaking figuratively." He looked worried now. _And_ lonely. Were we going to have to _adopt_ him now?

I groaned, but Angela smiled, hugged him. "I meant it, Zack" she said, in the voice she uses when she's reprimanding us for doing something reckless in the lab. Sort of frustrated and superior (well, like she wants to acknowledge that she's on a _different_ plane, presumably a higher one), but also sort of indulgent. She sighed. "We're making ornaments. You can come help us. And we have hot cocoa."

"Okay," he said, appearing not to be completely comfortable but still satisfied with the proposition. "If you're sure."

"Why aren't you off having Christmas with your family by now?" I asked, considerably less irritated. As much as I wanted to be with Angela and have my own new family, Zack was my best friend. And I worried about him.

"The airport in my town isn't allowing anyone to fly in as the amount of snow and ice has made it somewhat risky to land aircrafts."

"Aw, I'm sorry, man," I told him, patting him on the shoulder.

He looked confused. "It's not your fault that the weather is less than ideal, Hodgins."

"He knows it's not his fault, Zack," Angela said amiably, smiling warmly and chuckling softly.

How I loved her.

"I heard you two were being a family this Christmas." That was a weird thing for him to be saying. Who _told_ him that, anyway?

I nodded slightly, warily.

"Then I don't want to intrude upon that," he said, as if his was the most obvious logic in the world.

And on some level, I suppose it was. Just as I was about to vocalize my agreement with him, though, Angela rolled her eyes. "Zack, there are plenty of ways to make a family," she told him without sentiment - Zack didn't respond especially well to sentiment – as she handed him some sparkly string. "Here, we're twisting it like _this_ . . ."

By the end of the night, the tree was covered in wildly decorated shapes of baked dough and displayed three sparkly red, green, and gold woven names: Jack, Angela, and Zack.

Our_ family_ was turning out to be even more than I'd thought it was.

And that was okay with me.

**AN: I sort of hate myself right now for doing something so lame. haha. Please review and tell me just how pathetically cheesy you thought that was!**


End file.
